


Commonality

by lycomingst



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Elementary
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 23:23:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lycomingst/pseuds/lycomingst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rupert Giles walks into a bar and meets Marcus Bell.</p>
<p>Entry for livejournal "intoabar" fictathon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Commonality

**Commonality**

Marcus Bell was surprised about how Valentine's Day had snuck up on him. He'd been seeing Cherise on and off. The last time was in….December, so long ago; he was surprised by that, too. They'd had some sort of fuss. Somebody had been jealous about something. He honestly couldn't remember which one of them it was.

He'd meant to call her to make up. But work, work got so busy. The usual holiday family homicides, a couple of unidentified bodies, and a complicated diplomat suicide that turned out to be murder. And there was the year end statistic paperwork to do. 

So now it was Valentine's Day and he had a day off but no date.

He could catch up with his sleep or read a good book. Or, he could go somewhere that wasn't likely to have romantic music in the background or single roses in vases on white tablecloths. Okay, a beer in a cop bar it was. 

And a while later he was on a stool at a bar watching, really concentrating on, a single clear drop of glass sweat track slowly down his beer. He snapped back to his surroundings when he thought he heard a familiar voice. He turned toward it and saw a man two stools over talking to the bartender. They were having an intense discussion about a bottle the bartender was holding. 

A second or two later, the man sensed Marcus staring at him; he turned and said, "Yes?" Not unfriendly, but guarded. 

"Sorry," said Marcus. "Your voice, the accent, I thought at first it was somebody I know, somebody I work with." Then he said, "You a cop? I just asked because mostly cops hang out here."

“No, no, I'm staying a nearby hotel. I just wanted a bit of fresh air so I inquired at the desk for a place nearby where I wasn't likely to be surrounded by romantic couples.” 

“Yeah, that'd be this place. Your first trip to the States?”

“By no means, I used to live in California. Southern California.”

Marcus said, “I've never been there. Like it?”

“It's hot. Relentless sun, nice if you enjoy that sort of thing.” He took a slow slip of his drink. “But I kept busy.” He extended his hand over the stool that was between them. “My name's Rupert Giles, most people use the Giles part. I take it you are the police." 

Marcus reached out to shake it, sliding over to the vacant stool to cut down on the awkwardness, "Marcus Bell, NYPD".

Marcus did that usual cop thing: sizing up. Older white guy. Clothes not flashy but well-cut. Hair needs a trim. He had his glasses off to look at the bottle the bartender was showing him, then he slipped them back on. Probably nearsighted. 

"I'll skip over the obvious and sad fact that we two are singular on this of all days and just ask you about your job, shall I?" Giles said. "Police work must be fascinating and you say you work with a Brit now?"

Marcus gave a little laugh. "Some days are more fascinating than others, I guess. This guy we're working with, he's a consultant. He sees things other people miss." 

"Clues?"

"More than that. When he first started I thought he was one of those over-paid guys who have, you know, theories." The last word came out as though there were quotation marks around it. "But he can connect the dots, the invisible dots. He walks into a crime scene. We're going through the victim's pockets to get a name and this Sherlock, he's telling us the dead guy's job, his life story and probably, how many brothers and sisters he has." 

"He sounds impressive," Giles said. 

Marcus drank some of his beer. "Yeah, he kind of got on my nerves at first, but he was always right and I decided I could learn something if I watched him. It'd be stupid not to. "   
"Yes, it can be bruising to the ego to be constantly confronted with someone like that. I've been around a lot of gifted people, people who have talents I could never attain. Yet, it can be a burden I know, to be chosen like that. To see what others don't, a very lonely thing never to be like everybody else. 

Marcus said, "That must explain his lack of people skills. So what kind of business are you in?"

“I guess you can say I'm a consultant, too. I manage a group that troubleshoots, mostly personnel problems, internationally. They're with me on this trip but as they're younger and more adventurous, they're out and about in the city.” 

“You do a lot of traveling?” 

“A fair amount but mostly research at home. Lots of cups of tea in the office in the middle of the night trying to track down that one piece of information that's vital.”

“Substitute coffee and looking at police reports and that's my life, too. "

The two of them were quiet for a moment while they contemplated that exchange. 

Giles said, "I'm happy in my life but my work has become my life…"

"Right there with you," Marcus said.

Giles said, "But the question you should ask yourself, Marcus, do you want to be an old man and still alone on a romantic holiday? It's rather frightening how quickly that can happen. " 

Marcus said nothing but frowned at his beer glass. 

Giles said to lighten the mood, "After the second whiskey, I am always philosophical. If I were you, I wouldn't pay it much mind. "

Marcus smiled, "Guess it's better to be philosophical drinker than a fighting one." 

"Indeed." Giles slid off the bar stool and picked up his coat. "I must go. We're off to Cleveland in the morning.” 

“Cleveland, huh? That's going to be pretty tame after New York.”

“Oh, Cleveland has its moments,” Giles said as he shrugged into his long coat. "It's been a pleasure, Marcus. Give my regards to your British friend. Tell him we appreciate his putting up a good show for our side.” 

“I'll do that; you say hello to Scotland Yard for me.”

"Done." Giles gave a small wave as he headed out the door and into the night.

Leaving Marcus alone with his beer and his thoughts.


End file.
